Love, Karma and Tabanca…

Trinidad carnival is over, hubby is back home and things are back to normal, right?

Ha!

First off, I reluctantly handed over the keys to hubby’s Audi (read: they were pried from my deathlike grip). Suffice to say, all attempts to convince him that real men wore pink and he would look like a BOSS in my car did NOT work. Accepting defeat, I eventually went in search of my bimmer keys and prepared to settle back into a life of normalcy. 

But all was not well.  In the true style of a woman scorned, Pinky (my car) decided to throw a hissy fit because I abandoned her. Clearly, she was not pleased with the fact that she was left to accumulate cobwebs (literally), so in retaliation she blew her muffler.  Added to that, last Friday, a male driver drove me down to say he heard a weird scrapping sound coming from my car. Damn you Pinky!

That's drama number one.

Then last Sunday, in celebration of hubby's return, we decided to have a nice family breakfast of callaloo, salt mackerel run dung, corn pork, yam, banana, dumplings, fried plantains and some good old fashion chocolate tea (chahklit tea) with the oil swimming on top and some authentic potato pudding. Yum!

 *Pops collar*

Yes, my cooking skills are off the chain... impeccable!

Psyche! 

More like mama Sonia's cooking skills or better yet, the skills of the chef at Sonia's Homestyle Cooking. Let me tell you, their Sunday Jamaican breakfast buffet is divine. I was in food heaven. After breakfast we headed up to Garfield's sister-in-law to hang out and relax. Truth be told, I just wish she would adopt me so I could spend the rest of my days at her home! The view from her home is absolutely breath-taking. Two glasses of champagne, a comfortable swing and 20 minutes later, I was out like a light bulb.

And that's when my loving hubby decided to strike. Not only did he snap a photo of me when I was most vulnerable, but he decided to share it with the world! (Read: Twitter, Facebook, Instagram) I was mortified but I can't say I was shocked. Following my taxi cab prank at the airport, he has been on the prowl to trap or prank me back.

But as they say, “Karma is a bitch!” Or in the words of my mother, “When you digging a pit for someone, make sure you dig two." So, no later than the next day, Usain would retaliate on my behalf with a video of him fast asleep, snoring in all his glory at the airport en route back home from Trinidad.

Can you say pay back! To put it in perspective:  when hubby published my photo it was viewed by his 3,202 followers, when Bolt posted him snoring that was publicised to 1.04 million Instagram followers. Need I say more! It’s called karma baby!

[Sorry, you'll just have to go to Bolt's Instagram, try as I may the video just won't upload]

Usain then sent me the full length of the video for my growing arsenal. No, I won’t post it here, but it’s pretty useful for my future attempts at blackmail… eer… I mean future attempts at wifely persuasion.  

Tabanca?

Pranks aside, I do have a more serious matter that requires urgent attention. I am hoping that those of you who went to Trinidad carnival can explain what exactly is going on with my husband.

First off, since his return I have heard nothing but soca music. I thought I was used to it but this year is the worst. I think he must have downloaded every single soca mix and has rigged all our gadgets that are capable of playing music.  It's in the house, in his car, in my car… no matter where I turn, I am bombarded by Private Ryan mixes of the latest carnival hits. But that's not all; he now goes to sleep with soca as his lullaby. There are moments when my dear hubby will be lying in bed with his Note 3 playing soca mixes and writhing as if in pain.

Seriously, get a hold of yourself.

Or, maybe you fellow Trini carnival goers can explain the moments when we are leisurely going about our business, walking on the public road, no music playing mind you, and my dear demented husband bursts out singing, "that bumper is too real” or “I will jam she on the junction, the junction on the junction” and starts bumping and grinding in the middle off the road, wining down to music only he hears!

Dear God! I just want all the people who stare strangely at us to know that I am just as mystified as you are and NO, I do not know him. 

"Dude are you OK?!"  That’s me as I try to create as much distance as I can from the crazy man.

He is jolted back to reality and begins to sulks.

"Really, really, it was that good, huh?! I'll meet you at the car!”

Then, there are the moments when he stares longingly at his costumes as if contemplating just how psycho he would look if he decided to put them on. Can someone say Ward 21? For sure, that's where I'll admit him should he decide to put them on. By the way the way, do you still get a tin of milk, a Milo and $20.00 if you take a patient to Bellevue? (Just checking)

And not to mention the fact that he has monopolized every single gadget in the house scouring the internet to find every carnival related websites to tag or upload every carnival photo of himself and his #teamnosleep crew. Browsing his phones, the iPad, the laptop and desktop all at the same time to recapture and relive the moments through photos of himself and his crew. 

“Yow, Lecia come look on this picture, da party yah did shot!”

“Yes dear, you woke me from my stupor to tell me, remember?

And finally, is his crazy obsession to go to any and everything soca.

Mass camp - check; DTF - check; UWI Jouvert - check; UWI carnival - check

As always, I am the dutiful wife ready to soothe his pain when he comes home suffering from the let-down, the realization that these events will never quite measure up to Trinidad carnival.

“So, why you don't just stay home then?”  That’s me asking what seems to be a perfectly logical question.  But like a crack fiend, he brushes me off, rebuilds his hope and is off to yet another soca party in search of his elusive high.

Already, he is making plans for Trinidad carnival next year: he is busy putting plans in motion deciding where he will stay, what parties he will attend and how soon to book a flight.

Seriously honey, you just got back, RELAX.

Poor fellow. So now I guess I totally understand the meaning of Bunji Garlin's soca hit, Carnival Tabanca*. If ever there is a victim, it is my hubby!

*For those of you who are clueless, Tabanca is extreme sadness and/or a depression following one's breakup or separation from one's significant other. In this instance, it's clearly caused by hubby's separation from Trinidad carnival.

 

P.S. Do you know anyone suffering from Tabanca? I'm thinking of starting a support group TCTA -Trini Carnival Tabanca Anonymous - well, not so anonymous but you get the picture!